Leo tripped over something, the lighter sliding across the floor. He fumbled around on his hands and knees looking for it.

“There’ll be a new moon in four days,” said Rakkim. “The Colonel will have brought up the shekels by then. You and your men should attack from the south-it’s a tough climb, but the Colonel’s defenses are thin in that area. You don’t have to launch a full-on assault, he’s too dug in for that-forty or fifty men should do it. Just a raid…something to distract them long enough for me to grab the pieces of silver. I’ll slip through the lines during the firefight and meet you back here.”

“My own little homing pigeon,” said Crews.

“Where else am I going to go?” said Rakkim.

“Indeed…” Crews stared at the brand on his hand. “Does your mark burn?” He looked up at Rakkim. “Mine does. Sometimes it hurts so bad it wakes me up at night.”

“No…it itches a little, that’s all.”

Crews smiled in the darkness. “Give it time.”

Rakkim rubbed his hand, stopped himself. “Can you have your men in position in four days?”

“They’ll do whatever I ask.” Crews stepped back, seemed to settle deeper into the darkness. “What about you, Rikki? Will you do what I ask?”

“I want what’s in that underground lake just as much as you do.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Crews leaned his head back, faced the sky. Lost in the immensity. “I was a full professor once upon a time. Chairman of the department. Hard to believe, isn’t it, considering the company I keep these days. Don’t think for a moment I’m not aware of that.” His head bobbed. “American literature, that was my specialty. Huck Finn. Moby-Dick. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. Ah, the stories I could tell you, the depth of my insights…Do you read much, Rikki?”

“Not lately.”

“You should make time. I’ve…I’ve neglected my own studies too, for this…higher purpose.” Crews’s mouth twitched as though circled by worms. “Many are called but few are chosen…but they don’t tell you what you’re chosen for,” he snarled, his right hand sweeping aside a display of souvenir key chains. “Look at us. Called to the Church of the Mists, but left on the doorway…Locked out. Unfit. Unworthy.” He leaned forward. “Says who? We’ll show him, Rikki. You and I. Who dares stand against us?”

Rakkim belched.

Crews shook his head. “I like you.” He detached himself from the corner, eased closer, and Rakkim let him come. “This tale of the thirty pieces of silver, the ultimate blood money…lost and now found.” He cocked his head. “Is it really true? Or are you Judas himself, come to betray me? Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss. Is that who you are?”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” said Rakkim. “Four days, Malcolm. Don’t be late.”

“‘On a moonless night, I shall lead the army of darkness into battle,’” said Crews, taking a deep, theatrical bow, arms spread wide. “That’s Christopher Marlowe.”

Rakkim shrugged. “Don’t know this Marlowe guy, but it’s the title of an old horror movie too. Army of Darkness. Woman I know is a real fan of that stuff.”

“You’ll have to introduce me,” said Crews.

“Not a fucking chance.”

Crews glared at Rakkim.

There was only the sound of crickets rising and falling, the same sad note over and over coming through the broken windows.

“We…we should go,” said Leo.

“Yes, you should,” said Crews, not taking his eyes off Rakkim.

Rakkim led Leo out through the overturned display cases and soggy cardboard boxes, Leo lumbering along, keeping close, until the two of them were outside in the fresh air, the crickets even louder now, filling the night.

“I hate that guy,” whispered Leo.

“I’ve met worse.”

“Where?” Leo didn’t expect an answer, wouldn’t have believed Rakkim anyway. He looked toward the car. “Do I meet the Colonel tonight?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Did Mr. Moseby really find the canister?”

“It’s still at the bottom of the lake, but he’s seen it. He’ll bring it up when the time is right.”

Leo tore cobwebs off his hair, swatted at bugs that may or may not have been there. “The sooner the better.”

“It’ll be chaotic when Crews attacks the base camp-we’ll have plenty of opportunity to slip away with the weapon, once you tell me if it’s worth taking. I’ve picked at least eight potential escape routes-” The crickets stopped chirping and Rakkim grabbed Leo, hustled him into the car. Drove off at full acceleration, throwing up gravel from the tires as they shot down the road, lights off. Rakkim steered by starlight, as relieved as Leo to be away from the place, away from Crews.

Leo waited in vain for the headlights to come on. “Can you really see in the dark?”

“It’s not dark.”

“That must be useful.” Leo cleared his throat. “FYI, we won’t need to take the weapon when we escape, I can already tell you that.”

“I thought that was the whole idea. Take the weapon from the Colonel so he doesn’t destabilize the Belt or use it against the republic…maybe even turn it into a tool for reunification, show people in both countries that we can cooperate…What?”

“That is the idea, it’s just that once I get my hands on…” Leo’s grin threatened to crack his face. “How big did Mr. Moseby say the canister was?”

“He didn’t…not exactly. He said one man could carry it, that’s all.”

“See, a canister that small, it can’t have a full-size weapons system in it. It’s got to be almost pure data-computer cores, thumb loads, maybe even hard copy. Whatever was state-of-the-art information storage back in the old days. Point is, it’s all data.” Leo happily chattered on now, unable to contain himself. “Information…data, that’s my business.”

“We’ll still need the downloads and whatever-”

“We won’t need a thing. When Crews’s army attacks, I’ll wipe the cores clean and we’ll get away, just like you said. What we leave behind will be useless, but it will look like we didn’t get anything either.” Leo grinned again. “But we’ll have everything. All of it.” He tapped the side of his head. “Right here.”

“You have a photographic memory?”

“Don’t insult me. Memory only works if you’ve actually seen the data, experienced it in some way. That would take months and we only have, what…a few hours? Memory…” Leo shook his head, giddy. “Oh, I’m way beyond that.”

“Before we left”-Rakkim checked the rearview-“Sarah said you had been modified.”

“I prefer the term maximized.” Leo held up his hands. “My fingernails are permeated with organic silicone, converting them into ion traps. Just a little genetic manipulation, plus some nanotechnology. It’s my dad’s design, although he didn’t do the work himself. He’s more of a theoretician…” He saw Rakkim’s expression. “It means I can access any data-storage system there is with a near-instantaneous transmission rate. By touch. And brainpower, of course. That’s the most important component. Without brainpower…You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“You’re some kind of biocomputer.”

Leo shook his head. “You’re a biocomputer. I’m a quantum computer.” He wriggled his fingers. “With these, I don’t need to memorize what’s in the cylinder. I can download the whole thing while you’re singing ‘Onward Christian Soldiers.’”

Rakkim drove for another mile before he said anything. “Have you ever done this before? Downloaded massive amounts of data with just…your fingertips?”

“I’ve been tested.”

“But you’ve never done it under field conditions?”

Leo stared out the windshield into the darkness, pouting. “My maximization wasn’t completed until recently. I…I have total faith in myself.”

Still no headlights in the rearview. “I do too, kid.”

“Really?” Leo rocked happily in his seat. “Most people only use five percent of their brains. I’m what happens when you use the other ninety-five. That doesn’t usually make the five-percenters happy.” He stretched his long legs. “This canister Mr. Moseby found…what’s it made of?”